


As Long As You Want

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, Kitagawa Daiichi, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a harsh loss to end a friendship, and a harsh loss to heal one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long As You Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilaevolet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaevolet/gifts).



> This prompt was from the Things You Said ask meme on Tumblr, as requested by the giftee: kinkunikage and 'things you said when I was crying'.

They were never going to go to watch _that_ game, this much is clear. The loss is too fresh, too newly scabbed-over for Kindaichi or Kunimi to subject themselves to. Though they were given permission to skip school for a day and watch Karasuno take on Shiratorizawa, Kindaichi has been vocal about his inability to subject himself to that, and Kunimi quickly agrees.

It surprises Kindaichi and Kunimi both when they arrive at practice the next day to the announcement that Karasuno has defeated the nemesis that not even their most powerful senpai could beat.

Karasuno has just won. _He_ has won. The insurmountable monolith of Ushijima Wakatoshi has been conquered by a band of misfits in ancient uniforms and not even a full roster. Maybe Kageyama really has been smarter about volleyball than the rest of them this whole time, if he chose this school over a much more prominent Aobajousai.

Kindaichi doesn’t care to think about whether Kageyama would’ve ended up at Seijou, also, had they not fallen out. It’s a subject he and Kunimi don’t talk about. Not anymore

 

_“Shut up!” Kindaichi cries as he jams his hands over his ears. “I’m so tired of this. Tired of you!”_

_Kageyama’s hands ball up into fists, and Kindaichi momentarily fears being struck due to the thunderous expression on Kageyama’s face. “You don’t_ understand. _Why won’t you listen to me?”_

_“Then say something I understand, you asshole!” Kindaichi means what he’d said. He_ is _tired. Tired of Kitagawa Daiichi. Tired of this team. Tired of this strife. Tired of the frustration. Tired of this new Kageyama, who doles out misery like popsicles in the summer heat — like he doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong._

_They only fight when Kunimi isn’t there, but Kunimi’s patience and willingness to tolerate Kageyama’s menacing presence had expired a while ago. Their team captain has even washed his hands of the entire business and never speaks to any of them outside of practice anymore. This has left Kindaichi as the sole representative of their team to willingly subject himself to Kageyama._

_“That’s it. I’m leaving.” Kindaichi stalks towards the door and practically tears it open. Over his shoulder, he throws, “And don’t follow me,” before slamming it shut again._

_It doesn’t take long for Kindaichi to seek out Kunimi. Though Kunimi tries not to speak to Kageyama directly, he does make a habit out of staying close by when Kindaichi does just in case things go far worse than either of them can imagine._

_Today is definitely the worst. Not because Kageyama is shouting or because Kindaichi is. It’s because this is the day that Kindaichi feels something break between them. They had already stopped being friends weeks before._

_But today is the day when Kindaichi doesn’t believe there is enough dirt in the universe to fill the yawning chasm between them now. And for that, he allows Kunimi to stroke his hair as he cries._

 

“The national games start in a week,” Kunimi says blankly as he sees Kindaichi reread the same newspaper article about Karasuno’s victory for the fourth time.

Kindaichi nods blankly but keeps perusing as they slouch unbothered on his bed. Truthfully, he isn’t reading the entire article multiple times, but rather a small section that hails the strong, synergistic relationship between their freshmen spiker and setter as the determining factor in this achievement.

The name ‘Kageyama Tobio’ is mentioned four times in the article, and twice in that section alone, and Kindaichi still can’t believe that this magical setter described here is the same heartless dictator from his middle school days. Except he can believe it because the evidence has been sown since that very first practice match way back in April. An apology for a bad set. Not losing his shit over being hammered by a missed serve. Actual attempts at teamwork. A freaking double high-five.

The thought of making amends even occurring to him.

Interrupting Kindaichi’s thoughts, Kunimi says abruptly, “There’s going to be a livestream of the nationals.”

“There usually is,” Kindaichi replies automatically before his suspicions begin to flower.

“I want to watch him.”

Kunimi’s answer is very quiet, but Kindaichi knows he hasn’t misheard. What he really doesn’t understand is why. Between the two of them, he pegs Kunimi as the one saturated with the most bitterness about their fallout with Kageyama. Kindaichi is louder about his displeasure, but Kunimi dwells on it, lets it distill in his brain until it ferments.

“Why?” is all Kindaichi can manage as he sifts through the reasons why Kunimi shouldn’t care.

Kunimi gives him a smile that Kindaichi recognizes as being mildly patronizing. It’s usually reserved for when Kindaichi says something really stupid and hasn’t realized it yet. However, after a bald minute of staring, Kindaichi still doesn’t get it and Kunimi just shakes his head.

“I need to see him,” Kunimi says as if it explains everything. It doesn’t. “If you’re going to go and forgive him, I need to make sure he deserves to be forgiven.”

“ _What_?” Kindaichi shoots to his feet and thrusts his fingers into his hair and pulls. “Why would you think I’m going to forgive him? He beat us, remember?”

But Kunimi merely sighs and reaches out to tug on Kindaichi’s arm so their fingers can lace together. It’s an old tactic of Kunimi’s, which has worked many times to balance Kindaichi’s frayed nerves. “This isn’t about volleyball, and you know it. He was our friend.”

“So?” Kindaichi spits, irritated with Kunimi, but not enough to wrench his hand away. “That doesn’t mean I have to watch him go out and take what I wanted.”

“It isn’t about volleyball,” Kunimi repeated. “It’s watching him in his most natural state, seeing if he has really changed when it’s very likely that his team is going to lose.”

Annoyed that Kunimi has a point, Kindaichi scowls and mutters, “Still doesn’t tell me why you think I’m about to forgive him.”

“Aren’t you, though?” Kunimi raises a brow. “You spent more time looking for him after the match than necessary if you were just going to tell him off.”

“I —”

He’s right, damn it. “Fine. We’ll watch the match.”

 

_All Kindaichi wants after their last middle school match ends is to be alone. Kunimi avoids him because he knows this, and the gray clouds seemingly looming over him scare away everybody else._

_In a building full of people, there are really no places to hide, but a few that might afford him some much-needed privacy. So Kindaichi seeks out the Employee Only restrooms on the top floor of the Sendai City Gymnasium._

_When he opens the door, his ears are met with muffled sniffling and the wet, crackling sound of tears._

_Kindaichi isn’t surprised. After all, there are plenty of dejected athletes crying in this huge complex, and that’s what he has come here to do, as well. But not at the expense of someone else’s private moment of grief. With that, he makes to close the door and pretend he never saw a thing._

_However, out of the corner of his eye, he spies a discarded blue and white jacket, and the kanji on the back is achingly familiar. Curious, he peeks into one of the stalls and sees a distinct and very recognizable pair of court shoes, triple knotted because their owner doesn’t want to trip and fall like an idiot during a play._

_“Who’s there?” a dry, tired voice calls out._

_Kindaichi panics and backs away from the very last person he wants to see. He still feels like crying, but definitely not here and perhaps not about the same thing anymore._

 

A team from Hokkaidou puts up a good fight against Karasuno in the opening match of the Spring High National Volleyball Tournament. Kindaichi can’t help but cheer for the only team he knows more than one player. Their libero and tall middle blocker, in particular, are integral in this victory.

Their second match, however, is fast and brutal. The representative team from Kanagawa utterly destroys Karasuno in straight sets, and despite a valiant struggle, Miyagi’s best fails to make it past the second round. Kindaichi covered his face towards the end of the first set, which ended with an abysmal score of 25-6.

Once the match ends, though, Kunimi doesn’t turn off the livestream. Kindaichi wants to, but he’s too curious to reach over and close the laptop when he sees Kunimi lean in and intensely observe the screen.

That’s when Kindaichi sees it. He barely hears the color commentators discussing the pivotal moments in the match because his attention is almost glued to the scene on the court after the teams have shaken hands and bowed to the audience. A tiny, pixelated Kageyama walks, back rigid, to Karasuno’s number 2 — who Kindaichi remembers as being the third year setter who was replaced as a setter by his kouhai — and falls to his knees and sobs at the other boy’s feet.

Kindaichi can’t look away, and in the sliver of his peripheral vision, he sees that Kunimi can’t, either.

The silver-blond boy pats Kageyama’s head and mouths something they can’t possibly make out before the broadcast cuts out to a preview of the next match on the Orange Court.

As Kunimi closes the lid on the laptop, they exchange a look. This is what they had been looking for, but rather than lamenting the fact that Kunimi is right, Kindaichi feels an overwhelming ache in his belly where all his Kageyama-centric bile used to brew. “I . . .”

His words trail off because there is no way to end that sentence and still convey the array of emotions that seeing Kageyama cry once again after a match makes him feel.

“You knew, didn’t you?” he finally asks Kunimi.

Kunimi nods. “That he grew up finally? I knew that last year, when you refused his apology and he accepted that. That’s why I smacked you, because he was working on moving on, and you were still stuck on things that will never change.”

These words made Kindaichi’s heart lurch painfully in his chest. They sting because it has taken him almost a year to see this thing that Kunimi has known and patiently waited for him to realize on his own.

Kindaichi isn’t mad at himself for being angry at Kageyama; the other boy had earned that sentiment. What eats at him is the outright dismissal of any chance of forgiving his ex-teammate and ex-friend, even though that isn’t the type of person Kindaichi has ever wanted to be.

“Oh, god.”

Kunimi rests his forehead on Kindaichi’s shoulder. “I’m really glad I don’t have to explain it to you.”

A stifled chortle escapes Kindaichi at this. He can always count on Kunimi to be, well, Kunimi about this and subtly (or not so subtly) goad him in the right direction. And now Kindaichi knows what that direction is.

“I want to see him.”

 

_“You should go talk to him,” Kindaichi says as he nudges Kunimi with his elbow. “He looks lonely.”_

_Twelve year old volleyball players Kindaichi Yuutarou and Kunimi Akira observe one of their new teammates, an awkward boy named Kageyama Tobio, attentively unpack his bento in a far corner of the classroom. They watch with a mix of horror and fascination as the kid loudly eats like a vacuum before slurping his way through three milk boxes from the vending machine outside the building._

_“He’s your classmate,” Kunimi reminds Kindaichi as he points at the sign hanging outside the open door that says 1-B._

_His cheeks reddening, Kindaichi says, “I’m too tall. People always think I’m scary.”_

_“I don’t think you’re scary,” Kunimi counters with a raised brow._

_“You wouldn’t be afraid of a typhoon, Aki-chan.”_

_Kunimi scowls at the nickname that he probably hopes won’t last and nudges Kindaichi again. “He listens when you talk in practice. I think he respects you more than me.”_

_“But . . . he’s never been disrespectful to anyone, really,” Kindaichi mentions, leaving out the weird antagonism between the team’s newest setter and Oikawa-senpai because Kindaichi isn’t sure of how he feels about their flamboyant team captain, either._

_However, Kunimi is having none of this as he shoves Kindaichi in Kageyama’s direction, causing the taller boy’s recently longer legs to lose their balance. With a crash, Kindaichi topples over a desk and lands on the floor right in front of where Kageyama is sitting. The latter’s eyes shoot open as he thrusts away his milk box and helps Kindaichi back to his feet._

_“Did you fall?”_

_The first thought in Kindaichi’s head is not a sarcastic response, but a resigned one as he sees the concerned gaze trained on him. “I guess I did,” he says as he brushes invisible dirt from his school uniform. “Thanks for helping me up.”_

_“Why wouldn’t I help you up?” Kageyama asks, his head tilting to the side as his lips purse in concentration._

Oh, god, he’s actually thinking about it _, Kindaichi thinks as he watches this weird display from this even weirder kid. But Weird isn’t always Bad, and Kageyama might be an okay kind of guy. With a genuine smile, Kindaichi gestures over to where he and Kunimi are sitting. “Come on over and have lunch with us. You don’t have to sit by yourself.”_

_Kageyama shrugs. “I don’t mind sitting by myself.”_

_“Do you mind sitting with other people?” Kindaichi asks, not sure if this is a rejection or a rebuttal, nor how to tell the difference between the two._

_“No,” Kageyama answers._

_His smile faltering due to confusing but not dissipating entirely, Kindaichi hooks his arm in Kageyama’s and guides him over to the desks butted together in his and Kunimi’s regular spot. “Then eat with us and do something different. You sit alone every day. You don’t eat the same thing in your bento every day; why not try some variety in other things?”_

_There is a twitch in Kageyama’s mouth that Kindaichi thinks is a smile but isn’t sure. However, he gives this round to Kunimi for being right._

_As Kageyama retrieves his milk and bento, Kunimi mimes wiping a tear away and mouths, “That was beautiful.”_

_Kindaichi tries to glare but can’t._

 

It takes an old Interhigh program and a lot of Facebook stalking of people they don’t even know, but Kindaichi and Kunimi know Karasuno has returned from Tokyo due to a status from some guy from the team named Ennoshita, who said, “Back in Miyagi.”

The route to Kageyama’s house is familiar but also very alien for both of them as they walk together. Neither of them say much, even though Kindaichi would very much like for Kunimi to tell him what to say. What does one say to an estranged friend who is feeling about the lowest someone can feel? Kunimi knows; he always knows these things.

They arrive at Kageyama’s larger-than-average suburban house, and Kindaichi tentatively knocks on the door instead of ringing the bell. A few moments later, Kageyama’s mother, still in work clothes, opens the door and takes a step back when she sees who’s on the other side.

“Kindaichi-kun, Kunimi-kun,” she says with what even Kindaichi can tell is forced politeness. “What brings you here today?”

Kunimi opens his mouth to answer, but Kindaichi blurts, “Pardon the intrusion, Kageyama-san.” He bows. “Is Tobio home? He didn’t look very good after his last match, and we want to make sure he’s okay.”

Kageyama-san’s eyes widen in that bizarrely familiar way as her son’s, and without a word, she steps aside and gestures towards the inside of the house.

“Thank you,” Kunimi says behind Kindaichi, who almost runs out of his shoes on the instinctive trek to Kageyama’s room.

The door isn’t shut, but the lights are off and Kindaichi thinks that maybe Kageyama isn’t in his room. Just to make sure, he reaches for the light switch, and Kunimi comes up behind him just as light spills into the room and reveals a still fully clothed Kageyama, curled up into a ball on top of his covers.

“I’m not hungry,” Kageyama grumbles into his blanket.

“Didn’t think you would be,” Kindaichi answers. “I know I wasn’t.”

Kageyama wrenches himself up so quickly he falls off the bed. When he stands back up, Kindaichi frowns at the kicked puppy look, as if Kageyama is waiting for him to land another blow. “I’m not here to mess with you.”

“Then why are you here?” Kageyama growls as he hugs his sides.

Kindaichi brushes off the feigned hostility and sighs as he sits down on the end of Kageyama’s bed. “I wanted you to know that I accept your apology, and I would like to offer you one of my own.”

“Wh-what?” Kageyama gapes at Kindaichi.

At this point, Kunimi enters the room and touches Kageyama’s shoulder. “We saw your match. You did your best.”

Kageyama’s hands drop to his sides and ball into fists. His lip quivers as his head hangs. “I wasn’t good enough. I was never good enough.”

“That isn’t true,” Kindaichi says, unable to tear his gaze away from this broken boy. “You were always good enough. So were we. None of us understood that back then, just like you don’t understand it now.”

Kunimi rolls his eyes at Kindaichi and socks him in the arm before guiding Kageyama’s quivering form to the bed to take a seat. “What Shallot-head is _trying_ to say is that if you weren’t good enough, you wouldn’t have made it this far. You helped put your school on the map, and we respect that.

“But moreover, we realize that you changed a lot, but you’re still the kid we ate lunch with and told scary stories with at training camp and maybe we all forgot that a little.” He points at Kindaichi. “As he says, he forgives you, asks your forgiveness for forgetting who you are and who you aren’t, and maybe you’ll accept my own apology, while you’re at it.”

Kageyama’s mouth is hanging open, and so is Kindaichi’s. “That’s more words than I’ve ever heard you say at once,” the former finally says, and Kindaichi nods in agreement and chimes, “What he said.”

“I need new friends,” Kunimi mutters under his breath, but there is no malice behind the words that Kindaichi can detect.

Nobody moves, and Kindaichi can understand why. The timing is awkward as hell, and he is pretty sure Kageyama doesn’t need them any more than he did when he used to sit alone at lunch in his own little world. That’s why it shocks Kindaichi when Kageyama launches into his arms and hugs him fiercely, sniffling into Kindaichi’s chest as he starts shivering with tears.

Kindaichi’s own emotions lodge in the back of his throat as he holds Kageyama to him and lets a mix of disappointment from the past couple of days and the past couple of years ooze into his T-shirt and straight into someplace warm within him. Kunimi rests his forehead on Kageyama’s shoulder as Kindaichi says what doesn’t need to be said, but he wants to say it anyway because it feels right: “We’ll stay as long as you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble. It was...not a drabble. Woops. Kinkunikage spill, Aisle 3!


End file.
